Explorers of Identity
by Shamekeeper12
Summary: A shadowy mission has gone terribly wrong. Now, a buizel wakes with a vanquished memory. Beside her, an injured pokemon who claims they once knew each other. Life is a question in Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Explorers of Identity.
1. Prologue

Theme: Mayday Parade, "Terrible Things" (instrumental)  
watch?v=zjzCq4jmxD4  
(copy and paste URL text. recommended to listen at low volume)

* * *

_"Oh… sorry about that…"_

_"No need, it was an accident right? So… what's your name?_

* * *

_"I don't know, I just feel… singular."_

_"Singular? W-what do you mean? Like… lonely?"_

* * *

_"You know, I've… I've been meaning to show you something."_

_"Really now~? What is it?"_

* * *

"Welcome back, Commander. It has been awhile."

_"… What are we to do?"_

* * *

Present Day...

The shadows of forbidden faces occupy the silent speeding craft. Their purposes unknown. Dark as it may seem, but only one's intentions could be darker. For they arrive in the shadow of night, and death follows them. Without warning, a thunderous boom rocks the boat, nearly throwing one off, but the other had grabbed an outstretched arm just in time.

"Hold on!" the silhouette cried. "Just a little longer!"

"N-no! I can't- hold on!"

The first lifted up his gaze, hearing a faint flapping. What he saw garnered words from his tongue, speaking in a terrified whisper. A whisper no one could hear. Then, it was as if the stars fell upon them, a bundle of hyper energy slicing through both ship… and flesh. A final earth-shattering explosion ripped apart all within the fireball's deadly radius, the boat's death rattle. Then, as quickly as it started, silence and darkness returned to the night, no trace of anything remained. Smirking at his handiwork, the phantom disappeared into the night. The only evidence he was there being the wind he stirred moving about.

Yet, for all this violence, no one noticed. No one could hear over the screams of terror that already persisted. No one could see when their gazes were already shooting curses at the red-tinged sky. No one could smell the smoke and ash, when the scent of blood already clouded their senses. Not when the nearest sentience was several miles away.

_To lead, and to lead away. _

He reached for the surface, desperation driving his instinct. Never before had water been so vital, yet so volatile. With a final swipe, his head breaks the surface, and a gasp of fresh air enters his lungs.

_To teach, and to be taught. _

He looks off behind him, the wreckage of a vessel burns as an ember amidst the surface of the sea. The dim light of the fire illuminating his forgotten face. He turns, and gazes the opposite way. Two sights greet his vision. The first was a sandy shore advancing beyond a shadowy forest. The second was barely made out in the blackness of night. A mass drifting in the water, a mass drifting towards an outcrop of rocks. Rocks that, with the strength of the waves, would break that mass in two. A breath, and he knew what to do.

_To watch, and to protect. _

He did his best to swim, and crashed through the water with reckless abandon. Not caring if he bumped into the occasional piece of shattered wood, or scraped by the coral below. Then, the sea grew angry, and its ire manifested itself in the waves, rising another feet from the depths. The waters crew violent, throwing him around like a grenade between the hands of two idiots. All the while, the other figure speeding ever closer to its death amongst the rocks. His efforts, however, weren't wasted. He gained distance, willing himself 'Forward! Forward!' He knew that even if he got their in time, the waves would crash them both into the outcrop. He knew then, this trip would only need a one-way ticket. Seconds later, the two entities intersected. Clutching the figure tightly, he put his back to the shore, and braced for death.

_This is the creed, and the shores of another land is the setting in which, the story begins._

**_"True bonds are hard to form, and yet they are eternal."  
_**_-Written by a human who lived long ago._


	2. Chapter 1 - Foreign and Familiar

**Chapter 1 - Foreign and Familiar**

Yissu Province, Saphiria

September 2150 AH

"Don't let them escape!"

The shadows of two fugitives rips through the fallen leaves of the woods in the season of fall. Their silhouettes contrasting to the red-tinted, and smoke-filled sky. Fifty yards apart, the army's elite. A squad of killers in hot pursuit.

"We… we need to rest," a fugitive pants.

"… Alright. This will do."

Under the cover of the dim light, the two pokemon perch in a tall oak tree. One, a riolu, holding a fighting stance, ready to meet their pursuers. The other wore a cheeky (and slightly creepy) smile. The aipom held a burlap sack stuffed with unknown contents.

"You think they'll spot us?" the riolu asks. Receiving no response, he turns to see his partner's smirk as a group of uniformed pokemon rush through the forest floor below.

"Apparently not…" the riolu mumbled to himself.

"Catch a breath yet?" the aipom enquires. "We're running late, ya know"

The riolu took a long deep inhale, "I'm ready. Let's go."

* * *

Morning has risen in the land, and as the sun reaches further into the sky, the eyes of a character flicker open. With a groan the pokemon sits itself up, clenching her head as a surge of pain rips through her cranium. _I feel a bump… must've hit my head. That can't be healthy._ With that thought behind her, the buizel surveys the setting; finding only sand, and a forest of sorts beyond. Ignoring her wet, sand-crusted fur, she rubs the sleep out of her eyes, and comes to a startling realization. _Where am I? … WHO am I?_ She felt a surge of panic, but pushed the feeling into her gut, trying to maintain her composure. She began to rationalize with herself, running through a checklist she never knew she had. _Claws, fur- I'm alive… Where is he? I don't know… Wait, who IS he? Who is he? Hmm…_

A pained groan interrupts her train of thought. Her head swung in the general direction of the sound. The sudden motion caused her headache to act up. She winced slightly, but soon forgot the head-born protest when she saw who had voiced the groan. For the first time she could remember, the buizel stood. She rushed over to the injured mass, ignoring her own cuts. She immediately identified the species to be quilava, and the groan sounded male enough. She noticed the pokemon sported several deep gashes along his back and belly, the blood from which was leaking into the sand. Speaking of sand, the granular irritants were lodged deep into the pokemon's soaked fur.

"My odd!" she exclaimed, "Are you alright?!"

No answer. Kneeling down, she decides to check the pokemon's pulse, placing a paw on the others wrist. Still nothing. She started to panic. _Is he dead?_ She decides to search on his neck. After turning him over on his back, she searched for a pulse on his neck. She breathed a sigh of relief when she felt it. Weak, but it was there regardless. He was alive, but would he last for long? She shivered at the thought. Pushing it away, she once again surveyed the beach for anything she could use to help the quilava. She spied a small white box with a red cross upon it's face. It was only one of the many things strewn along the beach. Including large planks of splintered wood- some charred. Presumably, the wreckage of a ship. Her mind identified the object immediately, _A medipack,_ she thought. _That's… convenient._

Grabbing the box and its contents, she set out to find a place away from the elements. Taking caution and care, she drags the quilava under the shade of a tree. The pokemon seemed to sigh slightly as he was brought to rest under the shade. Turning to the box, she anxiously figured out how to open the thing, worried that sand may have invaded its sterile contents. Lifting the top, she gave an audible groan as the object was not full of sand, but flooded with sea water. The sealed gauze and bandages were thoroughly soaked through. It was a wonder as to why it didn't sink. With a huff, she rummaged through its contents until a particular packet caught her eye. She lifted the miniature blue bottle to her face to read the label.

Life Drops

She frowned in confusion at the title. Not knowing what it did, she turned it over. There was another label, one that listed some instructions and other information.

Use(s): Accelerated healing and recovery.

Directions: Swallow one pill every 24 hours until fully healed. Take without fluid.

WARNING: EXTREMELY CONCENTRATED AURA. OVERDOSE WILL KILL.

Active Ingredient(s): Refined lazurium

Inactive Ingredient(s): Water, cornstarch, salt, dextrose.

Side-effects: Nausea, vomiting, disorientation, hallucinations, lowered attack power.

She frowned again, seeing as the bandages would only cause the pokemon more pain (because of the saltwater), and that the quilava was evidently still bleeding, she may as well give it a shot. Uncapping the lid, her head recoiled in surprise to see the objects inside were glowing. She eyed their magnificent blue-green aura, and poured one into her hand. She checked the instructions again, to make sure she was doing this right. Tightening the lid, she placed the container back in the box, and proceeded over to the unconscious quilava. Lifting up his head, she placed the pill in his mouth, but it just sat there, laying on his tongue. _...How do I make him swallow?_ She face-pawed, how could she not think that far?

"Nice day out, isn't it?"

She yelped and dropped the quilava's head as she felt herself being lifted off the ground by her float. The yellow sac strangling her under her own weight. She squirmed, and struggled to set herself free. Useless efforts as she was carried away from the shade of the trees, and back into the sands of the beach. A quick glance behind, and she saw two green vines wrapped around her float-sac. She craned her head to see where the vines originated, and she saw the smug smile of a servine. The figure wasn't alone. Beside him, several bisharp.

"Now, may I ask what a _fine_ lady such as yourself is doing here?" the servine asks, dropping the buizel on the sand.

Picking herself up, she mustered a reply, "I woke up here."

"Oh, so you two were sleeping together?" the servine said referring to the quilava. "That's cute."

The bisharp there chuckled a bit, and the servine gave a snide smirk, "Judging by your cuts, I'd say it wasn't too comfortable of a night? Must've been a bad break-up. Especially for your boyfriend."

The servine's minions burst out in laughter, mocking her with their guffaws. She clenched her fists. She glanced over to see a bisharp kick the gut of the unconscious quilava, making him moan.

"I don't even know him," she growled, anger mixing with her blood.

"What?" the servine scoffed, his vines invading her space. "can't take a joke?"

No sooner after the words rolled off his tongue, that the buizel leapt into the air…

"No. I can't!"

…rolling, and bringing down her tail, sending a SonicBoom rocketing towards him at the speed of sound. The servine staggered back as the air itself cut him like a blade. Clenching a newfound wound on his side, he barked an order to his four underlings.

"Circle her!"

She observed as the bisharp surrounded her. Each of which seemed to be skilled in combat. The servine marched up, completing the circle that the bisharp had started. He growled menacingly.

"From what I've read, buizel live in pods," he lectured, "and that their stats are somewhat low in comparison to other pokemon. Well… I'd say we should test that theory."

He turns to his company, "Angreifen!" he roars, pointing one of his leafy feelers at the buizel. Cue the dramatic music.

On command, the bisharp surge forward. Instincts took over. Her paws drop to a belt she never knew she wore, grabbing two small oblong shapes. A second later, her arms snap out, sending the pea-sized objects hurtling sideways. Each one nailing a bisharp in the head, exploding on impact. Two unconscious vessels drop to the sand. Two others still stand. Without time to even look surprise at what she just did, an assailant launches his attack. He went for her head, bringing his arms together like scissors. The buizel ducked her head, the bisharp's Guillotine shaving hairs off her head crest. _Close call! These thugs mean business..._ In the corner of her eye, she spots the other coming down with a gravity-enhanced Brick Break. Thinking fast, she speed-burrows into the ground, avoiding the attack.

Dig now made this a waiting game. The bisharp readied another attack. They stand back to back and aimed at the ground beneath their feet. The servine merely tapped his foot impatiently. Something caught their ears. Like a _whoosh_ type sound. The servine watches as the ground in front of him turns a shade of orange, and a massive heat wave tears at his back. The bisharp noticed too, and they all turn to look behind. There, mere feet away, the quilava stood, spikes of fire shooting from its head and back. They could only scream as the pokemon's Lava Plume engulfs them all whole. The flames dissipate, and the servine lays in a charred heap. The two bisharp struggle to reorientate themselves.

It was at this time that the buizel burst through the sand. Leaping high into the air, she spins twice, each time launching a SonicBoom like a sniper's bullet. Each one striking the remaining opponents unconscious. Landing, she looked about her, seeing the charred faces of her opponents. _What the hell happened here?_ She looked behind, her eyes catching something. The wobbling quadruped figure of the quilava. She gasped as the pokemon lost its footing, collapsing on the sand. She rushed over.

"My odd! Are you alright?!" she exclaimed for the second time.

The hysterics solicited another groan, and a sarcastic reply from the bloodied mass, "Oh I'm-" he winced, "-fine!… Just… casually dying over here… heh…"

The buizel noted the quilava's strange british-type voice. Charming, but in the throat of the wrong character, the accent could be an unlimited resource of annoyance. Strange how she could remember that.

"Y-you were just unconscious a minute ago… are you okay?"

"Give or take…" he muttered. "I think I swallowed a Life Drop."

The quilava grunted, trying to sit himself up. The buizel found herself powerless to help as he leaned his back against a tree.

"Are… are you okay, Sonia?" the quilava asks, restarting the conversation.

"Yes… Wait," she paused, "You _know_ me?"

"Oh… I get it," the quilava responded sarcastically. "You just can't _wait_ to forget me, can't you? Not since-"

"Since what?" the buizel cut in, genuinely confused.

The quilava chuckled a bit, "Nice acting, but this is no time for jokes! We're here on serious business-"

"What business?"

The quilava faltered, "Y-you really don't remember… Do you?"

The buizel, who assumed her name was Sonia, shook her head.

"…You must've hit your head…" he murmured, his words barely audible.

"… What's your name?" Sonia asks after a short-yet-awkward silence.

"Kuwait," he says, wincing as he sat himself up against a tree. "My name is Kuwait. Rich, and full of oil."

Sonia quirked an eyebrow at the foreign, yet familiar phrase. "Rich? Full of oil?"

"Well," the pokemon mulled, "maybe not the 'rich' part, but you'll find out eventually, you did it before after all." he said with a wink. The quilava weakly stuck a paw out, "Nice to meet you… again."

"Sonia, is it?" she asks, shaking the offered paw.

Kuwait nods, "Yes, it's yours. Sonia's the name I know and…" he hesitated slightly, "…yeah."

Sonia blinked, "So… what is this place? Why are we here?"

Kuwait shook his head, "It can wait," he insisted. "For now, we have to find someplace safe."

"Why?" Sonia questioned.

"Trust me," Kuwait urged, struggling to his feet. "We cannot afford to be found."

"T-take it easy," Sonia warned, helping him up. "You're still bleeding. Here, put your arm around my shoulder."

Kuwait gave a wincing comply, resting his cut up, and wet forearm where instructed.

"Where to?" Sonia queried.

"There's a farmhouse to the Northeast," Kuwait grunted, pointing with his other paw. "Ten miles."

* * *

**Theme: Florian Bur, "Life Goes On"  
watch?v=gVfQk9UqZfI**

* * *

With a nod, Sonia aided the limping pokemon in said direction. The walk was long, and soon the sun worked it's way down the sky, that deep red-orange sky. Their pace was slow, with Kuwait's injuries. The quilava himself seemed to be down. Staring listlessly at the ground.

"Sonia," he says, almost pleading, "do you… Do you remember me? Anything at all?"

The buizel paused a bit, searching the library of her mind. Only to find it empty. All the books lost, stolen, or missing. She searched deeper, finding only more empty shelves that she was sure were once full of memories. She felt empty, as though her purpose was gone. Just like the books.

She shook her head sadly, "No… I'm sorry."

Kuwait hung his head, as they trudged along. She found her thoughts drifting to him. _How does he know me? _She questioned herself these things, having no answer.

"So," she decides to ask, "Were we friends?"

Kuwait sighed, "That… " he murmurs.

"...What do you mean?" she asked, knowing exactly what he meant.

The quilava shook his head, and heaved a sigh, "… It's a long story. Even if I told you… it wouldn't be the same."

She was about to press the topic further, but she saw his eyes. Those deep red eyes. Lost in thought, and perhaps, even sadness. She considered this for a moment. _Looks like this is a sensitive topic for him. He said if he told me, it wouldn't be the same. So… I'll let him show me._

Armed with this thought, Sonia speaks again, "… Kuwait…"

He looks at her with a foreign emotion. She was certain she had never seen the like. A mix of depression, sadness, but also of hope, and even wonder.

"Yes?" he asks, the word sounding more like a mew than language.

"If it wouldn't be the same," she answers, "then let's start over."

Kuwait seemed to grin ever so slightly, peering back to the ground and their advancing feet. "… That sounds like the Sonia I know," he remarks. "Okay. Start over it is."

Sonia smiled, and as the sun set ever more, the rest of the walk went by without a word between them. Sonia took a deep breath, knowing this would be the first in her new life.

* * *

**Hey there, readers! Chapter 1's up, and I'll take a moment here to introduce my latest literary failure, "Explorers of Identity"! I'll (try) to respond to the reviews you write via PM. This chapter was actually inspired by a dream of mine. It was weird, so I decided to make a story off it! All the more problems for me! ****In case your wondering, I do NOT own pokemon. ****I do NOT claim ownership over Pokemon as a show, as a concept, as a title, or as noun in general. It is NOT mine, and the concept thereof and the movie belongs to its respective owner/owners. There is NO monetary or tangible profit being made from this work, and there is no copyright infringement intended... Wurd.**

**Anyway, thanks for reading.**

**So… review maybe?**

**Update: 09/07  
Thanks to the recent reviews, I've been able to edit somewhat these first two chapters. Thanks a bundle guys!  
**


	3. Chapter 2 - The Water's Edge

**Wow! I've never had so many follows so early in a story. Thanks a bundle guys! I hope this chapter can live up to your expectations. If there's anything I can do to improve, don't hesitate to drop me a line!**

* * *

**Chapter 2 - The Water's Edge**

**Theme: "Oh Come, Emmanuel" (ThePianoGuys version)  
watch?v=iO7ySn-Swwc**

_"Oh river, oh river, I need your food, your shelter.  
You are vast and wealthy; your cusp runs over._

_Oh river, oh river, you flood me off your shores.  
Why, oh river? I must implore._

_Oh river, oh river, bust down my house and fields.  
I've no use for a levee's shield._

_You have broken your banks, and broken my crops… _

_...but must you break my heart as well?_

_Oh river, oh river, I need your food, your shelter.  
You are vast and wealthy; your cusp runs over."_

_-Written by a human who lived long ago._

The sun has set, the moon is here, and the stars have gone from hiding. Night, has drawn a blanket over the land. Every day, since the beginning of time, this darkness returns, this shadow of the Earth. Tonight was no exception. Now, Sonia and Kuwait find themselves in this shadow, in need of shelter.

"Can you start a fire?" Sonia asks, sitting Kuwait against a tree.

The quilava shook his head, "I can, but it's too dangerous. We're too close to the shore."

Sonia looked at him quizzically, "What's so bad about the beach?"

"It's not the beach, it's what's _on_ the beach."

Her pit of questions only seemed to deepen. Noticing this, Kuwait sighed. "Notice the washed up bits of boat bits? We were once on those bits, mind you."

"We were?"

"Weren't you soaked when you woke up? We nearly drowned! I think I still have water in my lungs…"

This conversation was starting up more questions than answers. "Never mind," she said, even though her many unanswered questions tore at her mind.

Sonia sat down next to him under the tree. For a reason she didn't know, she felt her eyes float to the heavens, the stars shone out amongst the blackness. The moon appeared as a silver dollar reflecting a bright white light. Like a flashlight peering through the darkness.

The stars. Simple beads of light, flickering in and out like a candlelight; and also like candlelight, what little light they had burst through their inky backdrop. Rebellious, yet hopeful. As if fighting the dominion of the darkness, trying to triumph against it. _Why does this seem so familiar?_ she asks herself. _Why? WHY? … I should know this! _She sighed, and tried to forget trying to remember. She would cherish this new memory now, and the old ones later.

Kuwait, meanwhile was glued to the performance on the ground. Moonlight filtered through the branches and what leaves were left this late in fall. With the passing of the breeze, the lights seemed to dance before him. He was caught up in the mysterious waltz, that tango the soft light so elegantly performed. So calm, yet so energetic. So delicate, yet so powerful. _Just like someone I know…_ he thought, and nostalgically so. He just sat there, unblinking, for an unknown measure of time; until Sonia's voice knocks him out of his trance.

"How are you feeling?" she asks, still lost in the sky. "Any better?"

He looked over to answer, but was taken by her eyes. The dance he witnessed on the ground now shimmering in her beady eyes reflecting brilliantly. Almost like the stars manifested in them.

"Y-yes…" he murmured. "You?"

"Just fine," she answered, glancing over.

Kuwait caught himself staring, and instantly averted his gaze, much to her confusion.

"What were you…?"

"Nothing," he replied quickly, feeling flushed somewhat.

"… It should be safe enough to sleep now," he continued, changing the subject.

"What time is it?" Sonia asks.

Kuwait glanced at a watch snugly seated in his right arm. Sonia eyed the digital timepiece, feeling a strange tinge of familiarity. The watch itself was worn. The brown leather belt was dulled at the edges. A piece of string held down the excess strap, seemingly a cheap repair on his part. The face of the watch was scratched, and the green plastic of the casing sported nicks. She could've sworn it would sell for a high price at an antique shop.

"It's eight-o'-clock even," Kuwait says squinting to see the liquid crystal numbers.

"It really is Fall isn't it?" Sonia remarks, noting the night that had fallen in the hour.

"Yeah…" he murmured in response.

So the night went on in silence. Kuwait slept where he sat. His mouth hung open as his head slumped back against the tree, a bead of drool leaking out the corner of his mouth. He looked thoroughly unconscious as he snored softly with every breath. Sonia chuckled at the sight, wondering if he always slept like this.

Her thoughts drifted to herself. She recalled the events of the day. The servine, the bisharp. That showdown in the beach left her with so many questions. _How did I do it? How did I know what to do?_ She looked down to see the wide black fabric belt she constantly forgot she wore. She remembered the way she fought. No hesitation, fluid battle, seamless swiftness. The movements came to her naturally, as though she were born with the skills of a fighter. She remembered the two objects she threw, how they detonated like a firecracker. It only strengthened her most pressing question.

"… Who am I?"

Kuwait snorted in his sleep, stirring at the sudden sound. She decided to let her mind do the talking for now. _A simple question,_ she considered, _so there must be a simple answer…_ Truth is, she was Sonia… but… who was Sonia? Like a host of other questions, she had no answer; and like a host of other creatures at this time, she resigned herself to sleep.

[end theme]

**The next morning...**

With a night of sleep behind them, Sonia and Kuwait enter a clearing, the leaves of Fall crunching like cereal beneath their feet.

"I thought you said this was a farm," Sonia commented, eyeing the lone building amidst the parched landscape.

"Farm_house_," Kuwait corrected. "Know the difference."

She chuckled a bit, but was still slightly confused. "Well… what happened?"

"Something about a dam. I'll explain it to you later," he replied. "But for now…"

She watched as Kuwait limped up the front porch to the door, and tapped twice with his right paw. Despite his limp, she noted that his health had drastically improved. Just a five hours ago, she practically (though not literally) had to drag him half the way here. Perhaps it would have been wise to take these so-called "Life Drops" with her… Oh well. She can always make the trip back. Then, a voice sounded from behind the dusty wooden door. The sudden sound making her jump a little.

"Leave!" a stranger shouted.

Kuwait seemed to frown at the rude order. He huffed, and knocked again; albeit ver strangely. A series of thumps with the palm of his paw, and taps with his foremost digital pad.

_Thumpthumptaptaptap, thumptaptaptaptap._

Sonia's eyes widen, a spark of recognition bursts in her mind as she remembers the two-tap language. _That's number seven and six in Morse Code! Yes!_ She gave herself a high-five, much to the confusion of the quilava in front of her.

"What are you…?"

"Nothing," she answered quickly.

A moment passes, and this time, another voice answered. This one feminine. "Two wolves battle within you," it says. "One pure evil, the other a force of good. Which one wins?"

Silence fell once again. Sonia considered this for a second, having no answer. Kuwait, however, did.

"The one you feed," he answers, breaking the silence.

A moment passes, and there was a clatter metallic behind the door. It opens to reveal a thin-set pikachu. An equally light-built eevee leaned out from behind him.

"Good day, Zev."

The pikachu's face instantly lit up, "Kuwait! Sonia! You're finally here… Goodness, you two look terrible! Please, inside. Lisa's almost finished with breakfast."

He motions them inside, directing them to several couch-cushion-like pads. He then walks off into another part of the house, presumably to get something.

"Who is he?" Sonia asks.

"Zevid, last name Yoshida," Kuwait explains. "He and the eevee- name's Lisa- are mates. Friends of ours. They're a quiet couple with no children, but…" the quilava seemed to sweat-drop. "… It can get a little loud at times."

"What do you mean?" Sonia queried, eyebrow raised.

**Meanwhile…**

"Watcha doin?" Zevid greets walking up behind the eevee.

"Cooking eggs," Lisa replied casually, sprinkling a dash of pepper over the pan with a shake of the paw.

"Wait, aren't you supposed to add the salt before the pepper?" Zevid asks over the sizzling pan.

The eevee turns around with a frown, "No. It tastes better if you put the pepper first."

"But if you add the salt first," the pikachu explains, "it provides a foundation for the pepper to stick!"

"Well, the pepper provides an even _better_ foundation for the salt to stick!" Lisa countered.

"Does not!"

"Does _too_!"

"Does _not_! There is no evidence!"

"I don't see you with a ten-page report about salt and pepper!"

"Neither do you!"

"Well, it just so happens that _this_ eevee here is the one cooking."

"Well I…" he stops mid-sentence, sniffing the air. "What's that smell?"

Lisa's eyes widen as she whirls around to the forgotten food. The unattended oil seemed to burn under the high heat, charring the once perfectly (or in Zevid's opinion, already ruined) scrambled eggs. Smoke billowed up, eventually cloaking the entire kitchen as Lisa and Zevid scrambled to bring the situation under control. (no pun intended)

Kuwait and Sonia, meanwhile, watch as smoke pours out from behind the corner of another room. Origin: kitchen. What they hear next is a sweat-drop moment for both of them.

_"SEE?! I told you NOT to put the pepper first! Pepper is flammable, Lisa! IT BURNS!"_

"Oh, shut up!"

"… See what I mean?" Kuwait says. "It's all in good humor though. Those two get over everything."

"You think we should help?" Sonia offers, noting her type advantage over kitchen mishaps.

He shook his head grinning a bit, "No, they got it under control. Besides, you don't pour water on grease fires- if it is a grease fire that is."

"Oh right…"

A pause hangs in the air before Sonia speaks again, "You still haven't told me why we're here."

Realization sparks in the quilava. "Oh! Of course. Let me get a map."

He gets up and wanders off into another part of the house. _He must know this place…_ she thought to herself. For a time, she sat there waiting. Not that it was boring or anything. She soon found herself needing to stand up.

_"NO! Don't pour water on a grease fire! Zevid, you ditz!"_

She huffed a sigh before rushing over to help. "Oh boy…"

* * *

Minutes later, the situation was brought under control. Sure, breakfast was ruined, but a glass of oran juice compensated quite nicely. After a rather lengthy explanation to Zevid and Lisa about their situation, all four gathered around the living room floor to… refresh a part of Sonia's memory. In the middle of their circle, a map Kuwait managed to locate.

"We are here in the Yissu province of Saphiria," Kuwait explained pointing to the respective place on the map. "Lately, the Saphirian government has been looking for ways to improve their energy production. Saphiria being a place of rivers and streams, they built hydroelectric dams."

"Dams?" Sonia enquired.

"Hundreds," Lisa provided, "and these dams are restricting water flow to our crops! The desert out front? We used to grow all kinds of berries. Oran, sitrus, lum…"

"We used to live on the water's edge," Zevid remarked, "next to a river. Now the closest water line is the ocean a few miles to the southwest, and we can't use that for farming."

"Can't you dig a well?" she offered.

They both shake their head.

"The ground water is laced with arsenic," Kuwait explained. "Which is odd considering arsenic is found in really deep. Traces were discovered in the shallows. It's why we're here. We're journalists out to document to Yissui situation."

"And it's not just us," Lisa spoke again, "Everyone in Yissu is starving. Time and again we've staged protests and marches, but the military always steps in. Then there was the Delibird Square massacre…"

"Since then, nobody challenges the ones at the top," Zevid added. "They've sent three platoons of soldiers to keep order. The servine you met at the beach? He's a tactician that commands one of them. Name's Korah."

"Obviously, he isn't too good in the 'tactics' department," Sonia said bitterly.

"He underestimated you two," Zevid explained. "He thought you were peasants. Workers with no honor fooling around on the beach. Korah's a guy that's all about honor. Being beaten by lowlifes doesn't sit well with him or his superiors. Now that I think of it… I'm very surprised journalists like you two could handle them."

"Lowlifes?" Sonia shot back, obviously insulted. Despite this, the word was forgotten instantly in the flow of conversation.

"Like you said, we were underestimated," Kuwait explained, replying to Zevid. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying he wont rest until he finds and kills you," Zevid replied, oddly casual. "That being said, eluding him won't be easy, considering you two are supposed to be journalists."

"We _are_ journalists, Zev," Kuwait retorted, standing bipedal with an energetic flair. "and Korah changes nothing. We're gonna do our job, document this, and present the evidence to a candid world!"

"And how are you going to document this?"

At the mention, Kuwait's confidence noticeably plummeted. Cameras, tape recorders, paper, all lost or destroyed on the beach.

"Erm… You don't happen to have paper around here would you? A camera would be nice…"

* * *

**I believe they call this… an author's note.**

**Before you grab your pitchforks and torches, I'll have you know that Lisa was NOT cooking pokemon eggs. Chicken eggs. Scrambled. With pepper before the salt.**

**Thanks for reading! Stay tuned for "Chapter 3 - The Pinkerton Crew"**

**So… review maybe?**


	4. Chapter 3 - The Pinkerton Crew

**What's this? A new chapter! That's right, I said it.  
Why don't you sit back, relax, and enjoy a long-awaited (yet short) Chapter 3?**

* * *

**Chapter 3 - The Pinkerton Crew**

_"The world must join as a one to face the problems that attack us as a one."  
-Written by a human who lived long ago._

It was morning, and, like always, Lisa was the first to rise. She was lying down on the front porch breathing fresh air, trying to ignore the sands which were once fertile soil. It was then that a groggy Zevid joined her, the door closing behind him.

"Up already?" Zevid queried as he entered the living room.

"Yup!" Lisa replied cheerfully.

"Nice! But… I though it was pronounced 'yep'."

The eevee frowned, "No, I'm pretty sure it's 'yup'."

Zevid shook his head, "No, it's 'yep' ye-ep."

Lisa glared a squinting stare. "It's pronounced 'yup', so _shyu-up_."

The pikachu blinked as he processed the latest line. Once done, he frowned slightly. Lisa just smiled and nodded in confirmation, beaming with her previous cheer. That was when Kuwait passed them by- somewhat in a hurry.

"Actually, I think it can go both ways," he chimed.

"Kuwait!" Lisa greeted, "Up so early?"

"Yes," the quilava replied. "Journalism never rests!"

"Where're you going anyway?" Zevid enquires.

"To the beach," he answers, glancing at his watch. "I must see what gear I can recover from the incident the day before yesterday. Uhm… tell Sonia she doesn't have to follow. It's best she stay here with what's happened."

Lisa nods, "Alrighty then..."

"Auf wiedersehen," Kuwait said before running off.

As the hour passes, Zevid decides he's had enough of the outside. Reentering the establishment, he finds Sonia lost in the view from the kitchen window.

"Kuwait's out on business. He wants you to stay here."

"I know," she replied, holding up a piece of paper, "he left a note."

The pikachu nodded, "What are you doing there? Nothing to see but dirt and trees."

"You could say that," she replies, "but I see contrast."

Zevid quirked an eyebrow, cuing Sonia to elaborate.

"The trees are healthy," she explains, "but your farmland is barren. How do you make a living?"

The pikachu sighed, "Our last crop depleted the soil, and the fertilizer is too expensive. We survive off the government which gives us food. In return, we're not to protest what they're doing. They cut our rations if we do."

Sonia's gaze cuts down from the window in a solemn nod.

Zevid was about to speak again, but Lisa's yelp cut him off. Alarmed, the pikachu motioned Sonia to stay still as he rushed to the door to investigate. Just as he reached the door, it flung open, striking Zevid square on the head, knocking him out. Not missing a beat, a bisharp barged into the house, and immediately identified Sonia.

"Sie da!" he shouts, grabbing her arm. "Kommen Sie mit uns. Come with us!"

She noticed his bandages as he pulled her towards the outside; but as if the wind whispered it to her, she instantly knew what to do. Seemingly by a simple rotation, the bisharp was firmly pressed against the ground. The bisharp squirmed and writhed, but nothing came of it.

"No!" he cried, "Jemand helfen!"

Sonia's victory was short-lived. Reinforcements flooded in through the door, soon there was not a square foot in the room without a pawniard or bisharp standing on it; all poised for battle. Without a choice, she let him go, and surrendered.

* * *

A minute later, all three were bound with at least twenty pounds of rope each, and gagged with something similar to the scarves worn by Rescue and Exploration teams. Eventually, a bandaged servine appeared before them. Sonia's eyes widen in recognition.

"You caused me the better half of my honor, little buizel," the servine menaced as he freed her of the gag.

"What are you talking about?" she asked (or tried to) innocently.

He chuckled that chuckle she so hated, "Believe me, I wasn't sure you were the one I was looking for myself. But once you swiftly dispatched the entry man, I knew it was you." he surveyed the landscape before speaking again, "Ah, this area was once fertile farmland. Now, I'm afraid it will be your blood that will make it fertile again. But first, tell me- where is your quilava boyfriend?"

She responded with a Water Gun to his face. "I hardly know him!"

Korah recovered, wiping the liquid off his face. "You really can't take a joke can you?" In retaliation, he struck her across the face with a vengeful Vine Whip, a fleshy smack echoed from the trees. "I don't _care_ how much you know him! I want to know where he is! Tell me!"

Once again, his answer was a little more "watered down" than what he wanted. The servine fumed as he struck her again. "TELL ME!"

She was about to launch a third Water Gun, but more frantic shouts interrupted her.

"What is the meaning of this?!"

It was a voice she hadn't heard before, and she craned her neck to see its owner. A proud herdier and a posse of one plusle and minun. Judging by the shocked reactions of Korah, the bisharp, and the pawniard, she inferred this pokemon was a very powerful one at that.

"Is this what Saphiria has turned to?" the herdier rants. "Limitless soldiers terrorizing the populace?!"

"C-constable Pinkerton! W-what a pleasant surprise…"

Sonia grinned smugly, thoroughly amused by the servine's sudden plummet in fluency.

"Pleasant for these poor farmers, I'd say. Even you, Korah, are not above the law here in Yissu. Not even your counterparts, Israel and… Knuckleduster." the herdier replied, saying that last name with a venomous hint. "For what reason have ye bound these commoners? Explain yourself!"

"This buizel and a quilava attacked me and my lieutenants yesterday on the beach," The servine explained, regaining his composure. "I guarantee you, Constable, they are no farmers. I saw a fresh shipwreck near where they were sighted. I tracked them to this farmhouse"

"If that it is the buizel and quilava who attacked you, why must you detain the pikachu and eevee?" the herdier snapped. "Minun, release them at once!"

Korah did not seem to protest as the blue part of the magnet duo untied and un-gagged Lisa and the still-unconscious Zevid.

"You say they attacked you at the beach?" the herdier queried. "Take us there."

"But of course, Constable." he then turned to a bisharp, "Lieutenant..."

"Ja?"

"Take the buizel with us. Just in case she escapes while we prove her guilt."

"Yes, sir."

This was when Sonia began to worry. It was true that there was something akin to a shipwreck on the beach. If she looked guilty, this herdier might not turn out to be the friend she thought he was. Not to mention Kuwait was supposed to be there. She gulped, it was Korah's turn to wear a smug grin. Whatever would happen next, it was sure to be interesting.

* * *

Ten miles and a midday later, they arrive at the beach. Strangely, all is quiet. Even the water is reserved in how it laps at the shore. Something was off. Something was missing. Something like… a huge shipwreck.

"It's not here… It's not here- It's not here!" the servine cried. "Where in Arceus' name?!"

Constable Pinkerton only chuckled lightly, cutting loose a confused buizel's bindings. "My friend, one must first be attacked to charge another with assault. I have deemed this buizel and whoever this quilava is, as innocent. Good day, Korah. Behave yourself~" and with that, the herdier along with the magnet duo walked off. Leaving a buizel to be free, and a Korah to rage in the sand.

"Wait!" Sonia called, "I'd like to press charges!"

"Already done," Pinkerton called back, not even turning around.

* * *

Kuwait walks with his thoughts on an empty pathway. They accompany him, and lead his mind to something familiar. Something someone said. Someone who was a good friend of his. He found his throat was dry, despite the fact he had a fair amount of water to drink. He swallowed hard, and trudged on with a feeling of unease. His direction was a strange one. One leading to town square. Going to the market for some groceries maybe?

It was almost mid-afternoon when he arrived. He remembered the last time he rubbed shoulders with so many, which was oh so long ago. He found the central fountain and rinsed his face before he sat down on it's wall, his feet swaying listlessly. He stayed like that for a little while- possibly deciding which shop to visit first with his newly salvaged satchel. Eventually, he spied a lone vendor giving away samples on the street. _There_, he thought, and started towards.

"A light, rich flavor that just melts in your mouth! Sample for free!" the salesman proclaimed, drawing the attention of a group of pawniard who approached him.

"What is it?" the pawniard asked informally.

"Only the finest juice from the extract of Perfect Apples! Try it!"

The pawniard grabbed a cup, and took a sip. He seemed to nod in approval. "Very good," he commented; but just as he did so, another came in from the side, flipping the vendor's tray and all its contents, falling to the ground with a loud clatter. The pawniard burst out laughing.

"Very good- if you're trying to sell urine!"

Still laughing, they continue on their way, just as Kuwait rushes up. His gaze shifts between the parting pawniard, and the humiliated smeargle cleaning up the remaining shards of glass. Everyone else seemed to ignore the incident. The smeargle glances up at him, seemingly without emotion, and gave a strange gesture.

_What? _he thought, _Did I see that right…? Did that smeargle just give the slightest of nods? _It was all he could think before his entire form seemed to collapse under a tremendous blow to the head.

* * *

**I believe they call this… an author's note.**

**Yes, I know it's short, but at least it's there! To be honest, I had to rethink the plot a couple times for this chapter, but I think I got it under control now. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Thanks for reading!**


End file.
